


Who Lived

by minkhollow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: queer_fest, Gen, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry asks Professor Lupin an important question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Lived

**Author's Note:**

> Written for queer_fest, prompt: Harry Potter, Every time someone calls her the Boy Who Lived is like a punch to the gut. Set during Prisoner of Azkaban. Many thanks to quiverby for the beta-read.
> 
> I am not JKR; I'm just borrowing.

It’s the better part of the first term before Harry works up the courage to visit the hospital wing.

There’s a lot feeding into that – the disaster that was the first quidditch game of the season, Hogsmeade weekends and the lack thereof, Professor Snape covering the Defense classes Professor Lupin’s missing, Hermione’s apparent utter madness this school year, and that’s not even getting into the whole “Sirius Black is out to kill you” business. And while Professor Lupin did say Harry could go to him with any question, this particular one is going to be tough to ask at any time.

Maybe it isn’t fair to do it while Professor Lupin’s sick, but Harry doesn’t see there being a better time. They both need all the concentration they can get for the Patronus lessons, after all; there’s no point in complicating that time. And it’s not exactly the sort of question you ask in the middle of class.

Not that Harry would if it were; it would only give Malfoy and his lot more ammunition.

So on the last day of November, after classes but before dinner, Harry heads up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey comes running when the door charm goes off, but relaxes when she sees it’s only Harry.

“No obvious injuries for a change, Mr. Potter,” she says. “I do hope you’re not ill?”

“No, ma’am. I just – is Professor Lupin in?” Harry supposes he must be; Fred and George were complaining about Defense at lunch, and the only time they ever do that is when Snape is covering it.

“He is.” Madam Pomfrey purses her lips. “But you really oughtn’t be bothering him after the night he’s had—”

“It’s quite all right, Poppy.”

Harry looks over to a doorway inside the infirmary; Professor Lupin’s leaning heavily on the door frame, and he looks like hell warmed over, but he still smiles at Harry – weakly, but it’s definitely a smile. “I don’t think Harry’s likely to ask me any questions that will tax my recovery.”

“Well, if you insist. Do try not to take longer than half an hour, Mr. Potter; we can’t have you missing dinner, and I see enough of you as it is.” Madam Pomfrey bustles off to another part of the infirmary, and Professor Lupin waves Harry into his room. Harry sits down in a chair (it’s quite a different vantage point compared to being the patient); Professor Lupin climbs back into bed.

“Now, Harry,” he says, “is this a question about class or about your parents?”

“It’s about my parents. Sort of.” Harry hesitates for a moment. “What was Mum’s middle name?”

Professor Lupin blinks. “Catherine. Why do you ask?”

“Because – I’ve been doing some thinking,” Harry says, “and, well, I suppose I don’t mind being Harry, and it might be a little late to do anything about that bit since I was famous before I could talk, but... I think I do mind being Harry James.”

“I see.” Professor Lupin’s quiet for a long time, so long that Harry’s almost afraid he’s not happy about that. But then he smiles a little and says, “How long have you thought that?”

Harry shrugs. “I didn’t really think about it before Hogwarts. I mean, the Dursleys wouldn’t like me any more if I’d been born a girl, so I didn’t have any reason to think about it. But the more I hear ‘the Boy Who Lived,’ the more I want to punch someone. It just – doesn’t feel right.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not likely to convince anyone to call you the Girl Who Lived any time soon – that is, I’m assuming that’s what you would prefer?”

Harry nods, more interested in picking out the pattern on the bed’s quilt than meeting Professor Lupin’s eyes. For all the conversation’s gone well so far, this admission could very well sink it, and then who would Harry turn to?

“And since your life isn’t entirely your own,” Professor Lupin continues, “you might want to keep this to yourself for the time being. I know keeping secrets is rarely easy—”

“But the Daily Prophet has enough to blow out of proportion about me as it is,” Harry finishes.

“Indeed they do. And while there are means for you to change your body, if you decide you want to, it won’t be safe for you to do that at your aunt and uncle’s house, and in the meantime the press will go wild looking for something to blame for your condition.”

“There isn’t anything to blame, though. I just...” Harry shrugs again. “I just know I’m not exactly the person everyone seems to expect me to be.”

“You know that and I know that, Harry.” Harry looks up again; Professor Lupin is smiling. “You have a hard road ahead of you, that’s all.”

“As if it weren’t hard enough already,” Harry mutters.

“You can’t choose everything you face in life, unfortunately. And it’s usually hard, even when there are no dark lords in the picture. But I can tell you that your parents would be quite proud of you.”

“Really? Even with... even with all this?”

“Well, I won’t say it wouldn’t have likely taken them a while to get their heads around it,” Professor Lupin says. “Particularly James; he always did take a while to see what was in front of him, but once he did, he wouldn’t back away from his friends and family. And your mother never shied away from a fight, particularly when it involved someone being treated as less than equal. They would have had your back every step of the way, in this as much as in anything involving Voldemort.”

Harry smiles. “That’s – thank you, Professor. That’s good to know. But why are you so calm about it?”

“There are much, much stranger things in this world than being born with parts that don’t fit you. The people who’d have a problem with you on that account would do well to remember that. Now, I think you’d best be getting on to dinner before Madam Pomfrey fusses some more.”

“I will. Will you be back in class tomorrow?”

“Barring unforeseen circumstances, I will be.” Professor Lupin waves a hand toward the door. “Go on, then. I hear dessert’s going to be lovely tonight.”

If Professor Lupin’s looking forward to dessert that much, Harry thinks, there’s probably going to be chocolate in it.

It’s a longer walk from the hospital wing to the Great Hall than it is from the Gryffindor dorms, but Harry doesn’t mind. No one else is coming down from this way, after all; it’s nice to be able to make that walk in peace for a change. Hermione and Ron will no doubt have questions about where Harry got to – well, if Hermione’s not completely off her head over her classes again – but Harry can always sort them out later.

Thanks to Professor Lupin, it’s actually starting to feel manageable.


End file.
